Some veteran Jackson Mississippi Samson guys' musings, recommended resources, and Samson Society news / updates (all written by 100% Grade A - Human Intelligence)
Weekly meetings available to you are as follows:
Tuesday at 6:30 PM, Truitt Baptist Church - Pearl. Call Matt Flint at (601) 260-8518 or email him at matthewflint.makes@gmail.com.
Wednesday at 6:00 PM, First Baptist Church Jackson - Summit Counseling Suite - 431 North State St. Jackson. Call Don Waller at 601-946-1290 or email him at don@wallerbros.com.
Monday at 6:30 PM , Vertical Church - 521 Gluckstadt Road Madison, MS 39110. Mr. Roane Hunter, facilitator, LifeWorks Counseling.
Wednesday at 7:00 PM, Crossgates Baptist Church. Brandon Reach out to Matthew Lehman at (601)-214-4077 for further info.
Sunday night at 6:00 PM, Grace Crossing Baptist Church - 598 Yandell Rd. Canton. Call Joe McCalman at 601-201-5608 or email him at cookandnoonie@gmail.com.
When I began to realize how deliberately indulging lust was (at the precipice of middle school), this is when I began to truly fear God. Up until then, I had no real reason to fear him, though I did believe he existed and that our world had been / continued to be ordered via his will.
My bio father was an enforcer of rules within our home, though most of those were unspoken expectations that simply centered around me being obedient to my parents' commands (sans any sardonic commentary). As I aged, he understandably pulled back therein (in proportion to my teenage emotional retreat), becoming more and more distant as any sort of active guidepost / leader within my life (he was consistently present / reliably routine).
Therefore eventually, my then new fear of God also morphed into need. That being direction for not only managing my depravity but for my life overall. For my penchant for lust was only ramping up / becoming more pervasive as a go-to private entertainment escape.
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We've had the good fortune to spend some quality time with new friends over the holidays. One of the distinct differences that I've clued into therein is the lack of God fear within these lovely human beings. And as a Christian, this is hard for me to relate to. For I begin wondering, am I more depraved than most, or is this simply tied to me attempting to be God (judge) with or without any true accuracy (or some combination therein)?
I read my Bible regularly. I pray regularly. I enjoy both of these things immensely. Right now, I'm reading through the book of Ezekiel. In fact, I just finished chapter 23. If you've never read Ezekiel 23, it's essentially a brutally descriptive / explicitly pornographic allegory of two people groups / physical places and God's utter disgust with their chronic debauchery (lack of fear).
In tandem with this, I'm undergoing some very intense personal recovery work right here during the holidays. Recovery work inspired by some of Mr. Andrew Bauman's teachings at the '24 Samson Summit.
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In closing, church is really important to me as well. Why? Because of its representation as Christ's bride combined with all the good (that I've experienced) from being involved within a local body of believers. Much of the book of Acts focuses on the early Christian church. If you're a Bible-loving Christian, wouldn't you work hard to find / invest within a local church (even if you're single) that serves you / allows you to serve others well?
I'm certainly not anymore depraved than the average Joe, but I am much more prone to ruminate on this part of myself (I have to believe).
At times, a deep-seated sense of worthlessness has taken root, over the years, as a result of this.
Were I less inclined to follow This Path, I don't believe fear would ever reside within the same sentence as God, therefore I'm very much at peace with remembering my need for salvation and, in turn, how deliberately rebellious my heart can be as any sort of almanac for my life.
As we approach December 21, the Winter Solstice, we find ourselves at the threshold of the longest night of the year—a time when the darkness feels most profound, yet the promise of light quietly begins to emerge. This turning point in the year carries profound symbolism for our journeys of recovery and healing.
In recovery, much like in the solstice, we confront our darkest seasons—moments when despair, shame, or fear may feel overwhelming. These nights can seem endless, and the weight of our struggles can tempt us to believe the light will never return. But the solstice reminds us that even in the deepest darkness, a shift is taking place. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the days begin to lengthen, and the light finds its way back.
The journey of healing often mirrors this cycle. It is in the willingness to sit in the darkness, to face the truth of our pain and surrender it, that we create space for hope and restoration. Like the earth tilting toward the sun, our hearts begin to tilt toward renewal. One day at a time, one step at a time, we move closer to the light, carried by the strength of our brothers and the grace of our Higher Power.
As we mark this sacred season, let’s pause to honor the process—the dark nights that have shaped us, the first flickers of hope that keep us moving forward, and the growing light that reminds us we are never beyond redemption. Recovery is not about erasing the darkness but learning to let it transform us into men of integrity, courage, and love.
May this Winter Solstice be a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come and to recommit to the light ahead. Together, we walk the road of healing—stronger in fellowship, united in faith.
Wishing you peace and hope.
Every new dollar donated between October 1-December 31 will be matched by an anonymous donor, up to $50,000!
Your gift helps provide resources, community, and hope to those seeking freedom and connection.
We are approximately 75% of the way to our goal of $50K! Let’s finish the year strong—together.
To be known is an ache, a holy wound, a trembling voice in the quiet room,
Where shame has carved its jagged lines, and self-contempt whispers, “You are defined.”
The critic looms with its sharpened tongue, a song of scorn it has always sung.
It names your worthless, hidden face, it brands your soul a barren place.
The wounds of time tell their tale, longings unmet, hopes that fail.
Echoes of love that was never shown, leave the heart cold, feeling unknown.
Shame drapes its veil, a heavy disguise, blinding the heart, clouding the skies.
It says, “Hide away; they’ll never stay. Who you are must be locked away.”
Self-contempt builds walls too high, a fortress of lies where dreams go to die.
“You’ll never be enough,” it cruelly jeers, and keeps us bound to our deepest fears.
Yet healing begins where grace draws near, in the light that stays when we disappear.
Love’s fierce gaze will not look away, even when shadows beg it to stray.
To be known is a dangerous grace, to stand unhidden in a sacred space.
It’s the risk of being fully seen, not perfect, not polished, but raw, unclean.
Love calls the child who learned to hide, and walks them back through pain denied.
It gathers the fragments, speaks their name, unveils the story beneath the shame.
For to be known is to find release, a balm for the war, a longed-for peace.
It rewrites the scripts of contempt and fear, and whispers, “You are wanted here.”
So bring your burden, your hidden despair, your self-despising, your silent prayer.
Love does not flinch; it holds, it stays, and mends the wounds of the darkened days.
To be known is the soul’s true cry, a holy longing we cannot deny.
For in the knowing, we’re made complete— The place where brokenness and beauty meet.
Step to the light; let the veil be torn. Here, in the open, you are reborn.
No shame too deep, no wound too far, to dim the light of who you are.
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